


Right All My Wrongs

by Sineala



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel Ultimate Universe, Marvel Ultimates
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Arranged Marriage, Crack, M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:02:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29396667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sineala/pseuds/Sineala
Summary: Tony needs to clean up his act. Fury has a suggestion. Steve has a proposal.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 56
Kudos: 345
Collections: You Gave Me A Stocking 2020





	Right All My Wrongs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wingheads](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingheads/gifts).



> Hi! You said you liked Ults and arranged marriage and I'm not really sure whether you were imagining those two things together, but I sure was!
> 
> Let's pretend this takes place slightly after Ults 2 in a universe where same-sex marriage is legal in New York at that time.
> 
> Thanks to Blossom for beta!

Tony sat back in what he suspected was an intentionally-uncomfortable chair and watched Fury set out a row of newspapers, one by one, on the desk in front of him. Through the sides of Tony's rocks glass, the headlines were distorted, the newsprint tinted amber by two fingers of quality scotch.

Nine a.m. was happy hour somewhere. And if it wasn't, who the fuck cared?

The headline closest to Tony read STARK RAVING MAD and featured a photograph of him staggering out of a club, his arms around two buxom, scantily-clad dancers. Tony didn't recognize the club. Or the city. Or, for that matter, the women.

The other papers were much the same. Different days, different clubs, different one-night stands. Tony admired the fact that none of the headlines accompanying the photographs of him with men were particularly homophobic. Still, Fury seemed to have a bit of a theme going with his collection.

Apparently the answer to _who the fuck cared_ was Nick Fury.

Fury finished putting the newspapers on the desk, sat up straighter, and stared at him. His eye narrowed. "Stark."

"It's a free country," Tony said, as casually as possible, taking an artful sip of his scotch to moisten his mouth. "Last I checked, it wasn't against the law to have a few drinks with a few friends."

"Mmm-hmm," Fury said. "Friends. Do you even remember any of their names, Stark? Did you ever even ask them?"

Tony sipped his scotch again. "Also not a crime, you know."

It wasn't really much of a defense, but right now it was all he had going for him.

"You know as well as I do that that doesn't make it a good idea." Fury splayed his hands against the polished wood of the desk and leaned forward. "Look, Stark, you can't keep doing this. It's terrible for Ultimates PR if you get blackout drunk in strip clubs every night. You've got to stop."

"You're not my real mom," Tony told him. He tried on a smirk, for good measure.

Unimpressed, Fury just stared back at him.

Also, come to think of it, Fury wasn't even in charge of the Ultimates. Not anymore. He really couldn't make Tony do anything.

"Believe it or not," Fury said, "your teammates care about you. They asked me to step in." His mouth thinned. "I got the impression they thought you might take it more seriously if it came from me."

Tony scoffed. "I'm sorry, is this actually _an intervention?_ "

He was going to need another drink after this.

"Of a sort," Fury said, with that squirrelly, evasive tone that Tony couldn't stand. "I'm here to present a suggestion."

"Oh?"

"We want you to marry Captain America."

"Excuse me?" Tony asked.

He was _definitely_ going to need that drink. Maybe two.

"It'll be good for your image," Fury told him, like he was actually serious. "It'll make you look responsible. Mature. Faithful. Stable. You'd probably be happier, too. Having someone to come home to."

Oh, Christ, he was serious. What the fuck?

Attempting to ignore the part of his brain that was telling him it would actually be pretty nice to have someone to come home to, Tony squinted at him. "And why do you think I want to marry anyone at all?"

"You were willing to marry Natasha," Fury pointed out, mildly. "I don't think you're that picky."

"Ouch." Wincing, Tony considered the glass in his hand. "Harsh," he said. "But fair."

When he looked up, Fury was staring back at him expectantly. Waiting for an answer.

There was an obvious problem with this entire bizarre plan, and Fury hadn't mentioned it, so Tony supposed that meant he had to. "Steve's not even _gay_ ," Tony said. "You really think he'll agree to this?"

Fury chuckled. "Whose idea do you think it was in the first place?"

Before Tony could even begin to process that, an unexpected and very familiar voice from behind him made Tony startle hard.

"I'm not gay," Steve said, helpfully but also extremely confusingly, and Tony turned around. "I looked it up, and I think they call it _bisexual_ now." He pronounced the word in four careful, laborious syllables, like he'd read it in a dictionary and never said it aloud.

Steve was leaning against the doorframe, wearing camo pants, combat boots, and one of those incredibly stupid t-shirts of his own uniform. He was still goddamn gorgeous. He offered Tony a small smile.

He was also apparently offering Tony his body. And also his lifelong fidelity.

It was a lot to take in.

Tony downed the rest of his scotch in three seconds flat. It wasn't really making this situation more comprehensible.

"So." Steve's teeth worried at his unfairly-beautiful lower lip. "Is that a yes?"

"I don't know," Tony said. He didn't seem to be in control of the words that were coming out of his mouth. "Come over here and propose to me yourself, you goddamn coward."

Steve just grinned at him, pushed off the doorframe, and took a step forward. "You're a real sweet-talker, huh? You want to marry me?"

What the hell. Why not?

"Yeah," Tony said. "Yeah, sure, okay." He stood up, unsteady more from nerves than from the scotch. This was really happening. "You gonna kiss me now?"

"I'm gonna do a lot of things to you now," Steve returned, which was really quite a remarkable statement to make in the middle of Nick Fury's office, and ten seconds after that Tony realized he didn't much care what Fury thought of that, because Steve was kissing him, _with tongue_ , and holy shit, was Steve ever good at kissing him.

"Out of my office now, please," Fury was saying. Tony didn't much care about that either.

He wouldn't have moved on his own, but it seemed that he was going to go wherever Steve went, and Steve obediently dragged him backwards, still holding him tight. Apparently Steve gave really good hugs, too.

When they got to the hallway, Steve dropped back, but was still clinging to his hand. Tony glanced down. Neither of them moved.

"I've got one question," Tony said.

"Yeah?"

"You're not planning to murder me and steal my fortune, are you?"

Eyes bright, Steve grinned down at him. "Nope."

Tony supposed that an arranged marriage definitely had some things going for it over the one he'd picked out for himself. Such as more stringent background checks.

"All right, then," Tony said. "Marry me, why don't you?"

Steve squeezed Tony's hand. "Sure thing."


End file.
